Taeyong had never felt quite so hopeless.

He remembered fifth grade, when he'd first watched the science fair trophy being handed to someone that wasn't him. Senior year of high school, when he had been kicked out of foster care. First year of college, when he'd taken Jaemin under his wing. Junior year of college, when he had almost flunked out of his course after falling prey to the exhaustion of working four jobs at once.

Big failures, little wins.

When he had been offered the opportunity to work with the other Supers, Taeyong had felt for the first time the passion of working towards something bigger than himself. He had lived his entire life shadowed by the fear of underachievement, thinking that he could never do something truly meaningful with his life, but the Super project had given him a goal. For the few months he had spent with the team, helping people and forging bonds that he had been too much of a coward to acknowledge, Taeyong had been truly happy.

Then everything had gone wrong all at once. He had found out that the motivation for the team was corrupt, the person giving him his orders had once been with the enemy, that he could lose his life and the one person he cared about by continuing the way he was. Then Mark had swooped in, and Taeyong had finally realized the fundamental mistake in his own beliefs: Jaemin wasn't the only person he cared about.

And now he was about to lose all of them.

Irene didn't speak a word after the little stunt with the fire, but she didn't need to. The fire itself spoke volumes for her, burning like tall spires that managed to make them feel the rippling heat despite the distance. There was Shao behind her, and Jisoo—the carpet underneath her was in ribbons and hanging out from the side, the banister crumbled away long ago. This was how Irene remembered her home.

Taeyong felt something close to pity for her at that moment.

Now he was beginning to understand what Taemin had tried so hard to explain. He still wasn't sure what they were in—completely inside Irene's mind, or in another dimension entirely, but he was beginning to get it.

Though the building itself seemed perfect, like a place that could actually exist, but there were discrepancies in the design, little flaws that jumped out. The banister was destroyed along with the carpet, but the fire hadn't even reached the upper floors yet. The velveteen curtains hung like ropes—another mistake. There were flaws in the build, things that made the building impossible, as if Irene had made it out of Legos or on a game of Minecraft.

That was to their advantage. Taeyong's brain worked quickly, the cogs turning as he assessed the mistakes. The Supers could use them to their advantage, to break out of this—whatever it was.

What was it?

"Taemin," Baekhyun warned, pulling him out of his reverie. "Things are not looking good."

"I can see that," Taemin muttered back. Hie eyes were fixed on Irene, who had her arms slightly spread like she was a performer presenting an act.

"I thought I would just keep all of you here until my work gets done," Irene said, "but that wouldn't be any fun, would it? So I thought I should leave you something to entertain yourselves with in the meantime."

The corridor trembles beneath their feet. Taeyong eyes widened and he clutched the broken pillar for support. The pillar shouldn't have been able to hold up the ceiling, but it felt solid and steady underneath his hands—yet another reason to believe breaking out was possible.

"Have fun," Irene said with a winning smile, and turned away to walk through the door behind her.

The other girls turned to follow, but Shao hesitated, glancing back at them. Taeyong's eyes narrowed on her, seeing the shifting of her feet and the hesitation in her eyes. She didn't want to see them hurt, he knew, which meant whatever Irene had in store for them couldn't be life-threatening. However...

"Taemin," Taeyong started, inching closer to the broken balustrade. "You said you don't know what could happen to us if we get hurt here, right?"

"Yes," Taemin answered, frowning. "This definitely isn't the work of developed tech, but what are you—"

The next few things happened in a blur. Taeyong stepped onto the broken edge, feeling gravity pull at him as he gazed down at the floor dozens of feet below, the carpet engulfed in flames. He heard Mark's alarmed yell, and even though she was a lifetime away, he could have sworn he heard Shao's sharp intake of breath.

"If all goes well," he murmured to himself, "see you on the other side."

He jumped.

The scream echoing behind him seemed to reverberate through his skull, but Taeyong didn't know what was happening because his eyes were screwed shut. Air whooshed past him, stinging his face with the force of the fall, but he felt a strangely resolute faith making his heart beat, pushing away his fears of what came up to meet him at the landing.

The next thing he felt was a body colliding against his, knocking him against a hard surface. His eyes flew open, and Taeyong gasped in surprise, feeling his ribs sting at the lungfuls of air he was taking in at a time. He was definitely on a floor, but it was definitely not carpeted. And there was still someone on top of him.

He propped himself up on his elbows as the person rolled off him, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Either his idea had just worked, or he had crash-landed in hell and had just knocked into his demon torturer.

"What were you thinking?" Shao yelled.

Taeyong could nothing but stare at her for a moment, his eyes wide. He was still sprawled out on the floor, and she was kneeling next to him, looking angrier than he had ever seen her with her nose screwed up and eyes flaming. She hit his arm, making him yelp. "You dumbass," she seethed, "you could've gotten yourself killed."

"Wha-what just happened?" he asked, sitting up groggily. Shao sat back on her haunches, glaring at him defiantly and refusing to help. "Where are we?"

"The asylum," she said. She still sounded pretty angry, but at least his question was answered. "I had to pull you out of the dimension because someone thought falling a hundred feet into a raging fire was a good idea."

He stared at her. To her, he must have looked a little loopy, with that slight crazed grin that started to curl his lips. "And you jumped after me."

She swallowed, blinking, the enraged expression faltering. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"Don't you get it?" Taeyong laughed, louder and more joyfully than he had in years. "You caught me."

Shao stared at him. "What?"

"You caught me," he repeated, looking at her meaningfully. "There was no safety net and we weren't on a trapeze net, but—you did. There was a fire and I had no way out and you caught me."

Shao caught her breath. For a few seconds, they stared at each other. Taeyong's chest heaved. He still felt pretty winded, but there was a sudden burst of joy in his head, like someone had exploded a firecracker in his gut. Shao seemed to be having trouble comprehending his words, but Taeyong continued grinning at her as if he'd just been shot up on a happy drug.

Then she kissed him.

Taeyong felt something spark and fizzle out in his brain's circuit, but he reached up and wound his hands in her hair, pulling her close. She smelled like burned cookies and lemongrass and medicine, but she was warm to the touch. Not cold at all.

"I thought you hated me," she murmured against his lips.

"I thought so too," he whispered back. "But I don't. I really don't."

She seemed to falter at that. "I hate you," she muttered as she pulled away, but it did nothing to wipe off Taeyong's smile. "Get up, loser."

Taeyong was still grinning when she helped him up, despite the sharp pain in his side. "You caught me," he repeated. "You can catch everyone else."

"I don't think I've ever seen you this happy," she said, dusting herself off. She was scowling down at the floor, still looking slightly embarrassed, but that was nothing. "You should almost die more often."

"I'll do that, as long as you help us out," Taeyong said. He grasped her wrist, suddenly serious. "Shao. You have to help me."

She looked conflicted as she pulled her hand away. "I can't turn my back on Irene. She—she gave me everything I never had. A goal, and a family."

"You have a family," Taeyong said gently. She looked up at him, taken aback by the tenderness in his words. "And I can give you a better goal: get these kids out. Help us save them. Help us save Irene."

She pursed her lips, the scar under her eye curving.

"She's misguided, Shao," he continued. "I know she means well, but this is not the way. I know you know it too. No one wants to hurt her—we just need to stop her. That way, we get to help everyone."

"There's nothing to stop," Shao said in a small voice. "There's nothing anyone can do."

Taeyong took a deep breath. This was the hard part. He knew he needed to convince her—that much was obvious and necessary, but the how was the confusing bit. He had to show her there was no other way to help Irene.

"You don't know that," he said lowly. "We can do it. All you need to do is help me out. Together, we'll figure something out. I know we will."

Her eyes were calculating when she watched him speak, but not cold. "I don't know how to do that."

"Well, you can start by explaining all of the mumbo-jumbo that just happened," Taeyong said. "What happened in there? Was it a separate dimension? Are there doors traveling in and out?"

"Slow down," she muttered. "Yes, it was a separate dimension. It was inside Irene, so she gets to create and control it, but not by herself. And it's an actual physical place, so you could have gotten harmed."

"Not by herself?"

Shao looked embarrassed. "I helped her," she said. "Creating a dimension is within her bound of powers, but I can help her travel in and out, put other people in. I amplify her powers."

Taeyong nodded thoughtfully. Things were starting to come together. "You can do that?"

"Well—" She bit her lip. "Not without the serum, I couldn't. We all have extra doses."

Taeyong raised his eyebrows. "So can't you just...I don't know, close the dimension? Force everyone out?"

"I can't just do that." She shook her head. "I have no idea what would happen to the people inside."

"Still..." he trailed off, thinking. A new idea was beginning to form in his head—it was loose-ended, and he didn't necessarily like it, but there was nothing else to do. "I think I know what we can do."